


Dark Lord busters

by Savasta_101



Series: Draco and Harry snapshots [3]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Abused Harry, Ghost Busters because 80s, Ghost Harry, Young Draco, chilling in the forest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 15:07:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15687894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savasta_101/pseuds/Savasta_101
Summary: Harry rather enjoyed wandering through the forest - ever since he’d returned as a ghost, of course - until a strange blond boy declared his destiny was to defeat a Dark Lord.





	Dark Lord busters

Harry woke in a foggy garden, and for a second he sat there, content simply to be. And then the memories returned to him: Vernon’s rage followed by blissful blackness, and Harry bolted upright. He did not recognise the crumbling house before him - warm red brick crawling with ivy - yet he felt strangely comfortable; similar to his cupboard. ‘Home’ whispered a small part of Harry.  
He was naked, yet the night air was not cold against his bare skin. This didn’t stop Harry from flushing bright red, and wishing desperately he didn’t have to look the part of a freak as well as be one. And then he was clothed - in clothes that fit him. Harry gazed at the jeans and t shirt with wide-mouthed happiness, though he flinched at the hand on his shoulder.  
He whirled around to face a tall man with hazel eyes and glasses, above a mouth lightly framed by laugh lines. Messy hair identical to Harry’s topped the man’s head, and Harry blinked once. Twice. Then pinched himself, but he didn’t wake up from this strange dream.  
The man looked sad, and Harry’s heart sank, because of course he wouldn’t want to be around someone like Harry. The small boy walked slowly away, only for the man to shout a startled, “Stop.” Harry stopped, and turned back around.  
The man still looked sad, but also a little angry. “You’re not supposed to be here Prongslet.” he said gently. “not yet.” Harry was confused. “Then just tell me how to go back.” he insisted, because wasn’t that obvious. Adults could be so silly sometimes.  
But the man was shaking his head. “Do you remember the nice lady with red hair?” And Harry nodded - something in him unlocking, as he realised why the house was so familiar. Harry had come here once before, and met Lily, who had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. And she sent him back to Privet Drive because, as Harry had painstakingly explained, he couldn’t very well leave his list of chores for Dudley to do. The woman smiled sadly. “It’s wrong how they treat you, Harry. You do know that?” And as the fog began to give way to light Harry had laughed at the woman’s silliness. Of course it was right.  
The man was on his haunches now, looking at Harry seriously. “You can’t go back again,” and something in Harry’s very nature agreed. “but you can’t join us either.” At this the man looked pained. “Not until you complete your unfinished business.”  
Harry was confused, but understood that adults sometimes struggled to explain things clearly, so simply nodded again. The man winced, and then drew Harry into a hug. He may’ve said something, but Harry couldn’t be sure. The fog was pressing in from every direction, and he was disappearing into nothing.  
Harry returned to being for the second time, though it was a very different state of being. He felt empty and full all at the same time - like he could float away - and Harry yelped when he saw his hand.  
It was silvery and see through as was, Harry realised upon inspection, the rest of him. He realised with great sadness that the clothes he’d dreamed into existence had disappeared, and in their place were Dudley’s old rags once again.  
The bruises and blood also remained, though Harry realised with relief that the constant, throbbing pain was gone, and decided this new state of being wasn’t so bad.  
In fact, he’d seen something like this as he laid out the food for Dudley’s Halloween party. A few boys were clustered around the television, watching grainy footage of four men in orange suits hosing a giant ghost into nothingness.  
‘Oh dear,’ realised Harry with a sigh. He really hoped humans didn’t try to banish him - it seemed painful from what he’d seen, before Petunia dragged Harry into his cupboard by ear.  
It was, Harry realised, safer to simply remain in this strange, dark forest - where the trees seemed to rustle in a nonexistent breeze, and distant snarling echoed through the air. After all, animals were unlikely to bother him.  
Harry found he enjoyed wandering to an extent - the lack of chores, and screeching, and small spaces. In fact, he enjoyed it so much that Harry ignored the niggling desire for companionship, as days faded into night, and he lost track time itself.  
Occasionally, Harry saw humans, and stayed well away. Only, this night was different. The human was very small, and sobbing, while scrounging desperately through the undergrowth. “Hello?” said Harry hesitantly. The boy screamed. Harry screamed back. And then they stared at each other.  
The boy had very pale hair - almost as silvery as Harry - and was now furiously wiping at the tears on his cheeks. Unbidden, Harry found himself saying. “Why were you crying?” The boy’s features twisted in anger, and Harry prepared himself to be vanquished to dramatic background music, and the boy opened his mouth - only to deflate, like a popped balloon.  
“May as well tell you,” huffed the boy. “considering you’re dead and all - it’s not like you have anyone else to talk to.”  
Harry felt slightly offended at that, though it was true, but didn’t reply because perhaps the same was true for this strange human.  
“I’m Draco Malfoy,” said the blond haired child. “Heir to the Most Ancient House of Malfoy, and so scared by a forest that I ran away when I heard a snap, tripped and lost my wand.”  
Draco seemed strangely liberated by the confession. Harry, on the other hand, was delighted - this was the most a person had ever confided in him - and he felt he owed Draco a response in return.  
“I’m Harry,” said the ghost at last. “and I lived in the cupboard under the stairs, but a strange man sent me here, and now I live in the forest.”  
Draco gaped at him, and Harry wondered if he’d said something wrong, but the human once again made no move to destroy him. “Th- That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” sputtered Draco. “you can’t live in a cupboard.”  
Harry sighed sadly. Draco - like the strange man - must be very slow.  
“That’s right Draco,” Harry told him. “I live in a forest now.”  
Draco puffed up, red with outrage. “You can’t live in one of those either.”  
“Well I do.” snapped Harry, and they reached an impasse, simply staring at one another before Draco huffed a sigh of frustration.  
“Well if you’re going to be an idiot, you may as well be a helpful one. Look for my wand.”  
Harry decided not to refuse, as his life had lacked direction these past few days and nights of wandering, so he carefully tried to forage through the underbrush, which was hard considering his inability to touch anything, while Draco half-heartedly looked in a bush.  
At last, after a few minutes of no progress, they came to an agreement where Draco used Harry’s glowing body as a torch, and Harry made suggestions as to where the wand may be.  
“It is not in a tree, Harry, ” groaned Draco in frustration. “Something can’t fall out your pocket and land in a tree.” Harry discovered the same was true for the giant spiders’ webs, and the unicorns’ paddock - though Draco seemed excited by the latter.  
At last Harry suggested it may be in an obvious place - he sometimes forgot when his glasses were on his head, after all. And Draco gaped in outrage. “Do you seriously think I wouldn’t check both pockets - “  
Pale pink skin flushed red, as Draco’s fingers glanced upon his wand, in the robe pocket he hadn’t checked.  
“You found it.” Harry exclaimed happily, and Draco glowered at him, and stalked off through the trees. Harry followed him, until Draco angrily snapped “Go back to your forest. And don’t get a big opinion of yourself, because I found the wand.” and Harry didn’t follow him anymore.  
More, numberless days and nights passed, until Harry heard loud, clumping footsteps in the otherwise quiet forest. “Harry,” called out a scared, wavering voice. “I know you’re there.”  
Harry drifted curiously closer to the sound. It was Draco once again, and the other boy looked affronted when he saw Harry. “You should’ve come sooner,” he was informed, and Draco’s voice trembled a little as he spoke.  
Humans found the forest scary, Harry remembered, and then realised Draco was speaking.  
“ - Weasel got in trouble of course, but so did I even though he was smuggling a dragon -“  
“Dragons are real?” Harry asked, eyes wide in wonder. Draco frowned, as though the answer should be obvious. “Yes, Harry, of course they are. But that’s not important - what’s important is that this is completely unfair.”  
Draco finished his tirade dramatically, slightly out of breath, and Harry blinked slowly. Draco gazed at him in disappointment. “You’re supposed to be sympathetic.” the other boy explained dully.  
“Oh,” said Harry, surprised. “Okay.”  
Then he gave the sympathy thing a try. “That must’ve been very hard for you,” began Harry slowly, but Draco just shook his head. “No,” said the blond-haired boy in defeat. “you ruined the moment.”  
In retrospect, Harrys supposed he had.  
Draco flopped down on the forest floor, though his back was somehow ramrod straight against a gnarled tree trunk. His face was curiously absent of its earlier righteous fury, and now simply contemplative.  
“How are you so happy,” Draco began. “when there’s not even anyone to care if you’re right or wrong?”  
Harry considered the question, then said slowly. “You care.”  
Draco snorted, but accepted his answer, though he still looked curious. “And why,” asked the other boy. “are you a ghost?”  
Harry didn’t know how the answer, and he told Draco as much. Draco furrowed his brows in response. “But you must know what unfinished business you have.” Draco burst out, and then continued in an exasperated tone, “tying you to the mortal plane.”  
“I suppose I hadn’t washed the dishes.” said Harry thoughtfully, and Draco frowned. “You’re the most boring ghost I know.”  
“Do you know any other ghosts?” asked Harry, and Draco scowled even further. “No,” admitted the other boy reluctantly. “and of course the one ghost I do know has to be so weird.”  
Harry accepted the insult - Petunia said far worse after all.  
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Draco sighed at last, getting to his feet as the two walked - or in Harry’s case glided - through the foliage. “I was supposed to be top of my year, and best friends with Harry Potter -“  
“Why on earth would you want to be best friends with me?” asked Harry in confusion, and Draco stared at him wide-eyed, and gaping like a fish. “Show me the scar.” he said at last. “Which one?” asked Harry curiously.  
“The lightning bolt.” said Draco, in a tone that implied this was obvious, so Harry lifted his fringe to reveal the curious mark. Draco collapsed, and Harry wondered in horror if he’d broken him.  
Yet when he tried to check for breathing, and his head passed through chest, Draco burst awake. “Don’t do that,” shrieked the other boy. “it’s cold.”  
Then he seemed to collect himself. “I know your unfinished business,”  
said Draco with complete seriousness. “to defeat the Dark Lord.”  
“Who?” asked Harry in confusion, as they neared the edge of the forest.  
Draco glanced at Harry incredulously, then seemed to realise he wasn’t joking. “Oh Merlin,” sighed the blond.


End file.
